Purgatory
by Whitters
Summary: "So now here you are, stuck in some torturous version of Cop's Limbo." Dov Epstein. Part of the FicTacToe Challenge.


**Title:** Purgatory  
**Rating:**K  
**Spoilers:** Up to and including 1x13 "Takedown"  
**Summary: **So now here you are, stuck in some torturous version of Cop's Limbo. Dov Epstein.  
**Authors Note:** _This is my first entry into the FicTacToe challenge that tikvarn and I are doing. If you don't know what that is, check out either of our profiles for more information!_

_And guys... This is totally an experiment for me. I've been a fan of second-person narrative for a long time, but have only actually attempted once or twice. It just seemed to fit the story I wanted to tell... So I gave it a shot!_

_**purgatory: **__1. a place or state of temporary suffering or misery._

* * *

**Purgatory**

* * *

This is hell.

No... This is worse than hell. At least if Oliver had sent you home you'd be out of your own misery. But _of course_ that didn't happen. So now here you are, stuck in some torturous version of Cop's Limbo.

Making coffee.

For _Traci_.

Not that you mind making coffee for your friends—and Traci is one of the best ones you've ever had—you've done it a million times before, even without them asking you to. But it's different this time. It's not making the coffee that's bothering you so badly. It's the fact that making coffee is about the _only_ thing you're allowed to do around here today.

Face it, Epstein, you've been put in time out. Just like when you were twelve and you broke your mother's favorite lamp because you were rough-housing even though she'd told you not to. Only you're not twelve anymore, and you didn't do anything wrong this time. You just wish that Shaw saw it that way.

Oliver Shaw... You'd really like to hate that man right now. After all, it's all his doing that's put you in this place. Sure, he's been your mentor these past six months, but there was no excuse for this. He should know you well enough to understand that you'd _never_ compromise a mission just to impress your girl.

Okay... So maybe you told Edie that you were working on a big case... Maybe you even told her that you were doing surveillance. But you didn't tell her what the case was about. You didn't give her specifics. You're a cop now—not a rookie—and you know better.

But Shaw still thinks that Edie is mixed up in your drug case, and he thinks you've told her more than you should. So now you're here... Not even being treated like a rookie anymore. You're being treated like _less_ than a rookie. You're officially kid cop.

You push the thought away, however, as you try to remember if Traci likes a lot of sugar or just a little in her coffee. You can't remember, so instead you just grab her a few packets and head back towards the desk.

"This sucks," you say, knowing that she can hear you. "I've been sitting in a car staring at an empty building for over a week now... Waiting for this bust... It's finally here and I'm sitting on the fricken sidelines."

"Well," she tells you, glancing up at the sugar you offer, "maybe you can make yourself..." for a moment you've got hope that she'll actually have something for you to do, but instead she just points at a pile of folders, "those need filing."

"Yeah?" you ask, choosing to ignore the papers for a while. You want to know what she's up to, since she's been staring intently at the papers in front of her since you went for the coffee. "What are you working on?"

"Edie's phone records," she glances down at the papers and then back up at you. "And you're in here a lot. Do you ever sleep?"

"Hey, that's private," you inform her. So what if you call her a lot; she is your _girlfriend_ after all. The first real girlfriend you've ever had. You like to talk big sometimes... Chatting up your friends about the pursuit of girls. But truthfully, it's a relief really, to have finally found someone who likes you for you. "Let me see," you say, unable to stop yourself from reaching out to grab the papers.

"No," Traci says flatly, but it's too late; you've already got them.

"What do you think I'm gonna do? Swallow it?" you joke, trying to deflect attention off the fact that you're actually doing something. You and Traci both know you're not supposed to be doing _anything_.

"I don't think you're allowed..." Traci protests, but then trails off. She knows you well; knows that nothing comes between you and your curiosity.

You glance over the sheets for a few minutes, taking in all of the calls and thinking to yourself that Edie sure likes to talk on the phone. Your number is there about a hundred times, but there's something else that catches your eye as well... Another number over and over again. And it's not a number you recognize.

"Whose number is this?" you ask Traci, knowing that she'll give you a straight answer even if she doesn't want to.

"It belongs to the guy they arrested," she replies, glancing up at you. "Gabe Lessing."

It's enough to set you off and you storm away from the desk, papers still clutched tightly in your hand. _Somebody_ has some explaining to do.

* * *

Well, Epstein, you've really done it this time... You've jumped to conclusions, pissed off Shaw, and dug yourself into an even deeper hole.

Then to top it all of... Edie broke up with you...

Right in the middle of the squad room.

It's official... You're no longer kid cop.. Now you're toddler cop. Keep it up and Shaw's not even going to let you get out of your chair. He may have tried to give you a pep talk after Edie left, but it's not fooling you at all. He's disappointed in you and if you're honest with yourself, he has every right to be. You messed up big this time.

But right now none of that matters as you trail behind Traci through the squad room in search of Detective Barber. Your friends are missing—they haven't checked in for over an hour—and that means something has gone wrong. You know Chris Diaz better than anyone, so you know that he'd never break a rule this crucial. Gail Peck you could see... But Chris? Not in a million years.

Before Traci can talk though, Barber launches into a story of his own and you can't help but follow behind helplessly and listen as everything just keeps getting _worse_. Swarek has up and left the primary location without Andy, and without completing the deal. Now they have no idea what's going on and no way to ready backup.

However, you've been doing your job over the past week, so when Jerry says that the car is heading North, you know exactly where they're going. That's the building you've been staking out with Gail; the same building where Chris and Gail disappeared.

The largest drug bust in Fifteen's history is about to go down at the building you were _supposed_ to be watching. But you're not there. You're at the barn. You're toddler cop.

"I need all available personnel in full gear!" Oliver yells, walking past you and towards the parade room door.

You just stand there because it's all you're allowed to do. The only consolation is that Traci is staying with you. But even that's not much, since she _asked_ for desk duty—you didn't.

"Epstein," comes Shaw's voice and you notice he's stopped walking. "Waiting for an invite in the mail?" He waves at you to come. "Come on... Suit up and let's go!"

And with those words... Those beautiful, beautiful words it's over. You're out of purgatory and back into the fold.

It's time to go kick some ass.

* * *

_Hope you like it... And Tikvarn... You're up! :D_


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